


My Happy Little Pill

by SamReiGel



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-08-12 10:39:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7931491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamReiGel/pseuds/SamReiGel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was nothing big, just random nonsense dreams often go. He could not recall the whole thing, but  he could vividly remember Harry Potter walking in at the very end of it with piercing green eyes that made him feel naked and exposed, as if the other boy could see right through his soul.<br/>He felt curious. Last time he dreamt about Potter was five years ago when the bastard had rejected his handshake on the very first day of school.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Happy Little Pill

Draco Malfoy woke up on a Tuesday morning wondering what his dream was all about.

It was nothing big, just random nonsense dreams often go. He could not recall the whole thing, but he could vividly remember Harry Potter walking in at the very end of it with piercing green eyes that made him feel naked and exposed, as if the other boy could see right through his soul. He felt curious. Last time he dreamt about Potter was five years ago when the bastard had rejected his handshake on the very first day of school.

That was the year when Draco learned that heroes don’t exist. Harry Potter, poster boy of all things pure and good had suggested to him that even the great saviour of the wizarding world had considered some things to be beneath him. To judge Draco from the mere minutes of their confrontation, dismissing his offer for friendship, and looking at Draco as if he was dirt not worth a second glance only showed that he was not at all a saviour, just an idiot. The following years the four-eyed dork had only proved this theory true. He had resented Potter for causing him that humiliation, but now he could all but thank him. If anything, that lesson taught him something else equally important; that everyone was the same. Everyone is an idiot. The world is infested by idiots, his father included.

Honestly, the man took pride in their last name that was made great by people before them, people Draco didn’t even know. His father didn’t have actual achievements of his own effort, and the only thing he was good at was serving a dark lord. He stood in line of arse-kissers for the half-blood who hated Muggles simply because they don’t know magic. Voldemort, the self-proclaimed dark lord who was so scared of death that he had to go looking for the babe that was supposedly going to defeat him just because a deranged lunatic told him so. Well, that plan backfired. He died.

Death is certain, and you will die as you were born, alone and with nothing. Your vast riches and worldly power won’t help you when you lay buried in the ground, in the soil where you will deteriorate and your body will become the house for worms. Riddle refused to accept this fact, a fact that he himself will soon face.

Haha. He was so bitter.

Draco got up and proceeded to get ready for class. They had double Potions with Gryffindor first thing that morning. Looking at his reflection in the mirror, Draco nodded in approval after 5 minutes of combing his hair and donned his infamous Malfoy smirk. He supposed he had to at least thank his father for his good looks. Then he traced his right arm where the Dark Mark was. Ugly, but it reminded him of his impending doom. He smiled bitterly.

Funny how some idiots can still hold power over you.

 

* * *

 

 

First period of Potions they learned theory, which meant that they had to sit down and write notes. As much as he liked Potions, this time he had no interest to get involved. He found himself staring at the dark shagged hair a few rows in front of him. Potter was engrossed in his textbook, something completely new this year. He figured it was because they had Slughorn as their professor this time instead of Snape.

Weasley leaned in from beside Potter to whisper something in his ear. He murmured something back and they both sniggered to their parchments. A familiar pang of irritation swept through Draco’s chest. He had always envied Potter and his friends, but now he was only infuriated with those sodding Gryffindors. But no matter. This year he had no intention to bother himself with those twats anymore. He had a task to do, and he would give anything to forget about Saint Potter once and for all even if it was something as stupid as this task.

Until the dreams became a regular occurrence.

Every time his dream was closing to an end and he could feel himself waking up, Potter strolled in. He realised after two nights that Potter wasn’t wearing his glasses in his dreams. The piercing gaze of his emerald eyes became more and more realistic every night. He stood there looking at Draco knowingly, and the dream ends.

_What is he doing in my dream anyway? And he’s just standing there!_

It was a while before Draco realized that Potter had his glasses again. Then Potter rose an eyebrow.

“What do you want, Malfoy?” he said.

Draco blinked. With a glance around he noticed that they were standing outside the classroom, looking at each other. With a jolt, he turned and went into Charms, leaving Potter confused in the corridor and following in after a minute. It was unnerving. He spent the last five years taunting Potter just trying to get his attention, and now when he had something actually important to do Potter just had to ruin it. Trust Potter to never leave him alone.

 

* * *

 

 

It was true. Potter was following him wherever he went. Sometimes when he was certain Potter wasn’t around, the git just showed up from nowhere as if he knew where Draco was. It was too weird. Once when he was done with the day’s work, Potter found him not far from the Room of Hidden Things where he’d been. Potter was running and the moron ran into him, sending them both tumbling down the staircase nearby. They landed with Draco on the hard ground and Potter on top of him.

Draco groaned “Potter! What are you doing?” rubbing his head, brows furrowed, eyes closed.

“Sorry… ugh” Potter muttered.

That hurt really bad. When Draco opened his eyes and lifted his head to look at Potter, he found green eyes staring at him.

“Get off me, peasant” Draco spat.

Potter didn’t stir. He searched Draco’s face as if Potter knew he’d been putting random objects into a certain cabinet and trying to fix it in the hidden room upstairs. Slightly panicking, he realised the green eyes now looked closer and more real than the ones in his dreams.

_The glasses are in the way._

Alarmed at his own thought, he shouted “Potter!”

Potter snapped out of his trance and quickly got on his feet. He held out a hand as Draco sat up. Draco stared at his hand then looked at him with a scorn. Potter didn’t say anything, looking back expectantly. The eyes were suddenly too green for Draco to handle, so he stood up without taking his hand, scowled, and turned to walk away.

“Where are you going?” Potter asked at his back.

“Stay away from me Potter” Draco replied without stopping and muttered “I fucking hate green” to himself.

 

* * *

 

 

That night, his dream changed. Draco no longer dreamt of the usual snakes and skulls, a circle of masked faces around him, laughing. This time, he was running through Hogwarts castle in the light of the moon. Running to or running from, he wasn’t sure. He ran past tall windows that shone moonlight on him as he passed, his footsteps echoing in the empty corridors, his heartbeat loud in his ears. He kept looking back.

It wasn’t until the third night that he saw Potter chasing after him, green eyes blazing. The moonlight shone on him, making him the colour of greyscale save for the eyes that seemed impossibly green. As he ran, he flickered white, black, white, and black, seemingly intent to attain Draco in his grasp, possessive, commanding, angry.

Draco would wake up gasping for air.

 

* * *

 

 

If there was anyone who should be angry, it was Draco, not saint-fucking-Potter. He had no right to invade his dreams. Hell, he had no right to show his smug face to Draco at all. Although he thanked Potter to put his father in Azkaban, still, he wasn’t supposed to engage with Draco after what he’d done.

“Fuck” he cursed.

“Ten points from Slytherin for interrupting class, Mr. Malfoy” said McGonagall.

Draco heard the Gryffindors sniggering and he glanced at Potter across the class. He wasn’t laughing, in fact he wasn’t looking his way at all. Potter continued jotting down notes, seemingly unperturbed. Once upon a time, Draco would feel challenged at the Chosen One’s indifference. Once upon a time, he would thank his silence. But now, now he was furious. Potter had no right to haunt him at night then ignore him during the day. The git was making him lose his composure again. Draco would not let him.

“What’s wrong, Draco?” Pansy whispered next to him.

Draco didn’t answer her. Draco was resolute to give his undivided attention to his task from now on. Any dreams concerning Potter can go to hell.

 

* * *

 

 

Slughorn had him and fucking Potter paired up for the practical that afternoon in Potions. He cursed inwardly. Potter himself didn’t look too happy, but neither of them complained. They both went on with setting up the work table, similarly eager to get it over and done with. He noticed Potter stealing a few glances at him as he cut up the required dry ingredients while Draco prepared the cauldron but he ignored it. Potter probably thought looking at him throughout the whole session would make Draco admit he was up to assassinating the headmaster, hence the unending probes, typical Gryffindor.

As Draco started to sprinkle the flower petals into the cauldron, Potter suddenly yelled

“Wait, you’re not supposed to…-“

Before Draco could stop, he was yanked away and the cauldron burst boiling liquid all over the table. He tripped towards Potter who was pulling him, and they both fell to the floor. Draco hissed at the burning on his right cheek. Potter lifted his chin, brushed his sleeve on Draco’s face, wiping the boiling liquid away.

“Okay?” he asked.

When Draco opened his eyes, he saw green eyes boring into him with concern. He looked around and saw the whole class gaping at them, and he realised that Potter had him in his arms. He quickly wrenched away.

“I’ll let my mother know you intend to take her place fussing over me in every manner possible, Potter. I don’t need your help” he spat venomously and started to clean their table without so much as a second glance at the moron.

“You’re the one who got the instructions wrong! I only stopped you from committing suicide” Potter sprang to his feet.

“You should stop with that saviour act, it’s getting old. Not everyone wants to be saved by you, especially not me” he met Potter’s gaze in defiance.

Potter opened his mouth as if he was about to reply but he closed it again. He seemed to realise something and searched Draco’s face instead. Draco felt stupid. He lost his self-control again.

“Go find someone else to torture with your insufferable heroism” he said and continued his work.

Potter snorted. He then started cleaning up as well. When the last minute of the hour ticked, Draco had already disappeared through the door, green eyes following him full of suspicion.

 

* * *

 

 

_Draco._

He opened his eyes right into green ones. They were so green, piercing, afire. He shuddered. Warm arms enclosed him, drawing him in. Potter leaned in closer.

_Draco._

Potter said his name in the softest voice, his tone low, warm, loving. They kept their gaze as Potter cupped his face. Warm fingers laced his cheeks, holding him in place as if scared Draco would run away. He wasn’t wearing his glasses again, like how Draco preferred it. 

_Draco._

Potter’s expression looked affectionate, his eyes were smiling, although his lips were a tight line. Then a wave cloaked over his face and it changed and he looked sad. So, so sad. He brushed Draco’s right cheek with his thumb, long dark eyelashes covering half his eyes as if he was about to cry.

_Draco… I love you._

 

* * *

 

Draco woke up to sticky sheets. He was wide, wide awake, remembering the dream. It was crystal clear in his head, and he felt as if he was still there looking into Potter’s face. His heart was beating much too fast and loud in his ears.

_What the fuck. What the fuck. What. The. Fuck._

He was going to kill Potter. How dare that Muggle-loving bastard do this to him. First he invaded his dreams, then he goes and says some stupid shit, making Draco wake up in this state? How was that even possible? It wasn’t even an erotic dream! All he did was look into his eyes and pronounce his love for his arch-nemesis as if the years had been nothing to him. As if Draco was some girl. As if he wasn’t some Death Eater spawn. As if he himself wasn’t one.

But of course Potter doesn’t know that. Draco spelled his sheets clean and went to get ready, willing himself not to think of the stupid dream.

 

* * *

 

Draco walked into the Great Hall for breakfast and headed to the Slytherin table, carefully ignoring the urge to glance at the Gryffindors. He plopped down next to Pansy and Blaise. He chewed on his toast vigorously and downed some pumpkin juice in one go. Pansy watched him incredulously, waiting for him to drink his last gulp.

“Are you alright?”

“Is Potter here” he asked without looking up.

“Err. Yes. He’s talking with Finnigan”

Draco looked up discreetly, just in case. Potter was now laughing at something Finnigan had said. They exchanged another word or two then Potter turned to talk to Weasley, still smiling. Draco proceeded to open his letters, feeling particularly unnerved by Potter’s carefree behaviour, oblivious to last night. Why should he? He didn’t know anything about the dream.

“Draco, guess what I heard from the Gryffindor table today”

“Don’t start, Panse”

“Romilda Vane smuggled some love potion for Potter. I saw him mooning over her this morning that he spilled pumpkin juice all over himself. It was pathetic” Pansy giggled.

“Really” he said. Somehow he felt betrayed. He furrowed his eyebrows, disgusted with himself, and downed another glass of juice “Did he consume it then?”

“Hmm… well he’s not all over Romilda yet, so I don’t think so. Anyway so Potter…”

“Please Pansy, I do not want to hear any more of anything Potter-related right now. The bastard is nothing but a moron. I have other things to do”

“What other things?”

“None that concerns you” he dismissed her and stood to leave the hall, not missing Blaise’s knowing look.

He headed for the Room of Hidden Things. He was getting really close. He’s been putting inanimate objects in the cabinet, reciting the incantations, and succeeding in returning the objects as they were. He would need a few more tries before moving on to living things. As for Dumbledore… he wasn’t dead yet. He would have to go with another plan. Time to visit Borgin and Burke. He couldn’t lose control. He musn’t.

 

* * *

 

_Draco._

Potter was holding him again, close, earnest and loving.

_Draco… I love you._

He leaned in, eyes fluttering closed. Draco followed suit. Their lips met, soft and squishy. Potter pulled away.

_I love you._

He leaned in and kissed Draco again, this time deeper, longer.

_I love you._

Potter kissed his jaw, slowly down to his neck, his collarbone, his chest. Warm breath against Draco’s skin, nibbling and kissing passionately. The warmth was comforting, and Potter’s voice soothed him.

_I love you so much._

He kept saying, desperate to let Draco know. It was as if Draco would never understand, as if Draco would forget. Potter didn’t stop saying it as he worked his way down to Draco’s stomach down to his crotch.

_I love you._

Potter kept saying as he held Draco’s gaze, emerald eyes now determined, fierce, making Draco feel alive. He sucked on his finger and leaned in as he inserted it into Draco who sighed in pleasure. Potter slid his tongue through his parted lips, ravaging his mouth. He explored his mouth with his tongue in desperation, sliding in another finger, hitting Draco’s prostate.

_Draco._

Harry.

He was now gasping for air, taking in the pure ecstasy, giving into Harry’s needy kisses and caressing. Harry pulled his fingers out and Draco bit back a whimper. The absence was immediately replaced with Harry’s cock, and Draco cried out silently.

_I love you._

He slowly slid his way in, carefully cradling Draco like his lover, and started thrusting. Draco’s own cock was leaking with pre-come, and Harry held it in his fist. Draco immediately put his arms around him as he did. Harry quickened his pace, pounding into Draco again and again, calling out Draco’s name over and over until they both came together. Warmth filled Draco all over his body, and his heart leapt in pure joy as Harry kissed his forehead gently. He looked sadder than ever before.

_I love you, Draco. Do you love me…?_

 

* * *

 

Utter bollocks. As if. Impossible.

The dreams no longer bothered Draco, it’s been weeks and he’s been having the same dream every night. What truly bothered him was how he was starting to fantasise it during the day. Why is it that he hadn’t been taking Dreamless Sleep? Why hadn’t he tried to at least not have dreams at all? Every night, he found himself going to sleep a little early because he couldn’t wait for the dreams, and in the morning he would feel intense happiness and sadness at the same time. But he never allowed himself to think on it for long. Every time he realized it, he forced it out of his head and made room for his scheming. He’d visited the Room of Requirement more and more often, now on his first attempt at transporting live animals.

Though when he recited the incantations, he thought about Harry. How sad he looked in the dreams, how gentle his caresses were, how possessive his gaze held Draco, how he was now Harry to him, and how much Draco hoped it was all real. He cursed himself for feeling this way, and wallowed in pathetic self-pity for dreaming such hopeless dreams for a boy who hated him and resented his family. He made that clear since the first day their paths collided.

And when he opened the cabinet to find the bird dead, he broke down and wept and cried.

 

* * *

 

That night he steeled himself and didn’t go to sleep. Instead he paced the corridors of Hogwarts and spent the rest of the night gazing out at the lake from the Astronomy Tower.

This idiot allowed himself to become a servant of a maniac. This idiot couldn’t even fix a cabinet. This idiot couldn’t even save himself from his impending doom. This idiot was fated to die when he fails to kill the headmaster. This idiot couldn’t even fight for his life. This idiot fell for Harry Potter, and even now, he was running away from him. He was a coward. He was always a coward.

 

* * *

 

“Malfoy you’re doing it wrong” Potter said next to him.

Draco rose his eyebrow at the four-eyes. Potter met his gaze and pointed at the textbook.

“You’re supposed to put the dust after the leaves” he explained.

“My book says otherwise” Draco held his gaze.

“Yea well… just trust me” Potter looked away, shifting uncomfortably. He was clearly irritated.

“Trust you? I wouldn’t like to endanger my life on the account of trusting you Potter” he tried to spit his name as if it was vile in his mouth as he always did before.

“You nearly killed yourself on your own last time, Malfoy” Potter said through gritted teeth.

“At least I was ready to die on my own terms” continuing his stirring in the cauldron.

“Well what’s stopping you to die now” Potter snapped.

Finding himself slightly hurt by the retort then cursing himself for it afterwards, Draco breathed in slowly. “Only your inability to keep your mouth shut. Now please excuse me, unlike you I actually have something to do” he threw in the leaves into the cauldron.

The end result was a shade lighter than what was stated in the book, and Potter smirked at him. Draco walked out of class, reminding himself that that was the real Harry. Potter. Smug, proud, and arrogant.

 

* * *

 

During lunch, Katie Bell walked into the Great Hall. Draco couldn’t look at her long, he ran towards the prefect’s bathroom and broke down crying. Soon after, a familiar voice echoed in the room.

“I know what you did, Malfoy!”

Of course. Of course it was Potter.

“You cursed her, didn’t you?”

Accusing, cruel, and cold. He turned around, ready to curse the brains out of the moron. This git needed to die.

As they threw spells at each other, Potter short an unfamiliar curse and it hit him square in the chest. His flesh sliced everywhere, and blood started pouring out and soon enough he was lying in his own pool of blood. He was gasping and crying in pain, green eyes looking down at him in horror. He fucking hated green.

 

* * *

 

That night in his dreams, Harry was crying. He had tears streaming down his face as he said Draco’s name over and over, kissing his chest and clutching Draco so firmly he thought he could feel his arms hurting.

They made love as they had countless nights before, Harry as kind and tender as always. As they came, Harry cupped his face with his hands again, emerald penetrating into grey, and said

_Draco, I love you… Do you love me…?_

And for the first time, Draco smiled.

 

* * *

 

Draco woke up at the hospital wing. His body still hurt, but feeling much better. It was probably late afternoon judging by the golden tint of the sky outside. Remembering what happened, he sat up. He was startled when his hand brushed another’s, and realised it was Potter, asleep on the side of his bed. It appeared he had been resting his arms on the bed, and now his head was lying on them, one hand placed next to Draco’s as if he had been holding it.

Draco looked at him long and silent. His breathing was steady as his body rose up and down slowly. Draco pulled his glasses off of him and placed them on the bedside table. He then reached for Harry’s hair, stroking the soft strands gently. Harry’s eyes slowly opened. Draco stopped but didn’t pull his hand away. He held Harry’s gaze quietly.

“Am I dreaming…?” Harry asked, his voice gentle and warm.

Draco’s breath hitched. Could it be…?

“Yes” he smiled.

Harry regarded him for long seconds, seemingly unsure. Draco smiled warmly at him. Finally deciding that it was a dream, Harry climbed on the bed and straddled Draco’s lap.

Draco’s heart was beating loudly in his ears now, his breathing hastened in light of the situation. Harry had just asked if he was dreaming, and got himself this close to Draco, something the normal Harry Potter wouldn’t do. He looked up into the emerald eyes, as clear and blazing as they had been in his dreams, and he knew. He knew that Harry had been dreaming the same dreams too.

“Draco” he said.

Draco’s heart was positively leaping right now. Harry touched his face and slowly leaned in to kiss him. Their lips brushed, and they both melted into the kiss. This was real. The warmth was real, the soft and wet of their lips were real. Harry’s hands on him were real, Harry smelled like summer, Harry was tender and kind, Harry…

“Draco”

Suddenly he wasn’t wearing anything, and neither was Harry, how it happened he didn’t care. He wanted nothing but Harry inside him right now, right now as Harry entered him, sending waves of pleasure throughout his body, rocking together until they both cried out at the climax.

“Draco” Harry held him again, looked into his eyes again “I love you… do you love me…?” he asked in his kindest tone, wearing his saddest expression.

Draco smiled in pure happiness, and kissed Harry.

It didn’t matter now that Harry opened him up and he nearly bled to death. It didn’t matter anymore now that he had a task to fulfil. It didn’t matter anymore that he would fail it, and die. Now, he had Harry and it wasn’t a dream. He smiled in Harry’s hair as they held each other tightly, falling asleep together, completely submitting himself to the boy next to him.

 

* * *

 

Harry woke up in the hospital wing. He didn’t remember how he got there, but when he sat up and realised there was another body next to him, he stopped. He was looking down at Draco Malfoy, staring back at him in his elegant perfection, seemingly waiting for something.

This Draco was sweet and vulnerable, unlike the real Draco who was always so cold and cruel. He had always loved them both, how he wished he could tell the real Draco the things he’d told him. The dreams had allowed him to do so, but it would never reach the real Draco no matter how many times he said it.

I love you, Draco.

Draco regarded him quietly, looking back at him with grey eyes that reflect nothing. The dreams can be so cruel. So cruel.

“When will I wake up…?” he asked himself.

At this, Draco sat up and held his gaze levelly.

“This isn’t a dream, Harry” Harry didn’t say anything and continued to look at him, trying to process his words. It’s not a dream?

“Then why are you here?” Draco chuckled.

“You put yourself in my bed, Potter” He laughed at Harry’s confused look but quickly stopped when it hurt. He started again “You cut me up, rendering me bedridden, and climbed into bed with me”

“But that’s the real Draco… he… he would never let me…” Harry furrowed his eyebrows.

Draco held Harry’s hand on his chest. Sure enough, there were bandages there, partly soaking with blood from the curse Harry had sent his way. He looked back up at Draco in alarm. He had thrown himself on the wrong Draco.

“It seems we have been sharing the same dream, Harry” Draco pulled Harry’s hand to his face and planted a kiss in his palm. Harry watched, not daring to believe this was real.

“You mean…”

“Yes Harry. I got your message. Every single one of them” He leaned in and kissed Harry’s forehead. “Now… can we please go another round? We have two months to make up for, and I’d rather we start now” Draco smirked.

Harry didn’t need to be asked twice.

The following sex was nothing gentle, instead they ravaged each other as much as they could as if they could never get another chance. Draco left marks everywhere on his body, making him red and bruising all over. Harry didn’t mind, he needed it to remind himself that this was real. He wasn’t sorry that he cut Draco open and made him bleed. The wounds will leave scars on him, and as twisted as that was, Harry was glad to know that they were his marks. So he didn’t bite him back or leave any marks, and if time was turned he would gladly cast the curse again whether or not this was a dream.

After a few moments lying limply on the bed, breathing heavy from the ruthless thrashing, Draco sat up. Harry quickly grasped his hand, not letting him escape. But Draco didn’t, instead he straddled Harry’s hip.

“These marks will go away soon” he nudged at a bite mark on Harry’s chest, hearing him moan.

“They will stay” Harry said without making sense.

Wordlessly, Draco took out his wand and pointed at his chest. He regarded Harry’s face who surrendered himself to him completely. This trust he displayed, letting his arch-enemy hold him wand point at his most exposed and vulnerable, was worth a thousand fold compared to the envied friendships he shared with Ron and Hermione. Draco smirked triumphantly. For a moment Harry was afraid. Draco traced a pattern on his chest, shaping an incomprehensible mark which soon burned making him wince.

“This will stay” Draco leaned down and started kissing him, drunk with desire "it will sting every time you touch it, and burn afresh every time you forget" he sucked on Harry's neck "you're not allowed to forget me. You will die with this still burning red on your skin, remembering me alone"

“My happy little pill” Harry whispered in between kisses. He thought Draco was going to pull away and ask what a pill was but he trapped him in place with his hand behind Draco’s head, and they both succumbed into the next possessed engagement.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Does Draco die? One thing for sure, he's ready to.
> 
> Forgive my unwillingness to write more on the universe rather than focusing on just the two of them, but it wouldn't be so dramatic if I brought things other than their dreams into focus, which would defeat the whole purpose of the fic.
> 
> Would continue only if this receives enough read. Enough as in... half the population of the earth? Yes.


End file.
